


Where is My Heart?

by taxilady23



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-01
Updated: 2003-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxilady23/pseuds/taxilady23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes what you've always wanted has been right in front of you all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where is My Heart?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first C/W fic, my main love being Clexionel but jimmybo said he needed a C/W fix so here goes. This is first season, Clark is a freshman, Whitney a senior, and Kwan is still alive.

## Where is My Heart?

by Linda C.

[]()

* * *

Where is My Heart? 

By Linda C. 

Rating: NC17  
Pairing: Clark/Whitney  
Warnings: None  
Feedback: dragokatzof10@gmail.com  


Summary: sometimes what you want has been right in front of you all along. 

* * *

Whitney wondered what he was doing here. Him and Kent had been teamed together for a fundraiser for the AIDS Awareness Week. What was he going to do with a freshman, and a geek? Gee, thanks Kwan. 

He could hear music playing in the upper level of the loft, where Mrs. Kent said Clark would be. 'Clark had finished up his chores and Whiney was welcome to come in for some lemonade and pie if he wanted.' He nodded his thanks and trotted off to get this over with. He bounded up the stairs, mouth open to yell for Kent to shake a leg and come in the house. He never got a word out. 

Kent was naked...stark raving naked...in front of him...oh, fuck. He stood with his back to the stairs, toweling his hair dry after apparently rinsing off with the hose Whitney had seen still dripping outside the barn doors. His damp clothes were scattered on the floor. Whitney could barely breathe. That was no freshman body...this was a man. Whit knew he couldn't look that good if he exercised everyday the rest of his life. And that was only the back. 

"Ken..ttt.." he managed to squawk out, seeing the jerk in the body, the realization that Clark was no longer alone in the loft. He turned, arms still raised, to see his intruder. Whitney couldn't help it, his eyes roamed down the muscular chest, the dark hair leading to a six pack and the biggest uncut cock he had ever seen. At least eight inches soft. God help whoever Kent fucked ... that would have to hurt. Whitney felt his own sex harden at the thought. Wait a minute...getting hard looking at Kent's monster cock...get real, Whit, you're not gay, no way. Then why was his mouth watering for a taste of that? 

"Uh, Whitney, what do you want? Whit, wake up." Clark grinned at Whit's stunned look. He glanced down, face blazing as he realized just what he was staring at. He hurriedly wrapped the towel around his waist, then moved to get some clothes off the couch. 

"Don't bother on my account. You looked just fine the way you were." There, Whitney had said it. Just a crime to cover up all that flesh. Okay, maybe a little gay. Who wouldn't be when confronted with the cock attached to the body, attached to the beauty that was Clark Jerome Kent. 

"I know it's weird. I'm uncut and a lot of the guys look at me that way. I think I'm the only one in the whole gym class that still has..." he waved his hand down toward the towel-covered offender. 

Whit moved closer, putting a hand on the solid arm. "I think they just want to see if it's real. Kent, you have a cock to die for...don't be ashamed of it. I wish I was that big. Hell, I wish I was that big hard. Just how big do you get?" Clark ducked his head again, turning his back to Whitney. Now his ass, outlined in damp white terrycloth, mocked Whitney, so perfect, globes taut and high. 

"About ten inches long, at least 2 1/2 thick. I need both hands to jerk off. Shit, I just didn't say that. My mouth is working before my brain. Let me get dressed and we can go in the house and get on that list Kwan gave us for phone calls." He dropped the towel and reached for jeans, pulling them on commando, leaving them unzipped to tuck in the t-shirt he was picking up. Oh, fuck, that ass and that cock bare in jeans with holes, holes that Whit just ached to fill with his fingers. Okay, maybe a whole lot gay here...he wanted Clark, fuck the fundraiser. Maybe they could sell tickets to a Kent shower...it'd be a sellout. He put his hand on Clark's waist, sliding closer to the damp back. Pressing his lips on it, he heard Clark gasp, then try to turn around. 

"Whit, what the hell? Whitney, stop it!" Clark turned in Whit's arm, the other sliding up to pull the dark head down to reach those full lips - cocksucker mouth, whispered in the locker room, hushed but wanting. Maybe he wasn't the only one who thought Kent was hot. 

"Just shut up Kent and kiss me. God, you're beautiful...I just never noticed you before. Shit, that's not the truth. I just never let myself see you as someone I could ever have. I'm not gay...at least I thought I wasn't but seeing you like this...just kiss me, Kent!" Lips met, Clark bending his head to close the gap in their heights, large hands cupping the back of Whitney's head, gentle giant hands that brushed through the blond hair, trailing down the jacket clad back, then pulled Whitney up into the now hard sex in the open jeans. 

"Whitney, do you want me?" The faint whisper brushed against the shell of his ear, breath hot and raspy, Kent's whole voice emitting sex and want and 'fuck me'. "Do you want to fuck me in the barn? Or on the couch? Or in your truck?" Hands unzipped too-tight jeans, releasing his own rigid sex, wet with precum, its smell drifting upwards. The large hand pulled him out, stroking, pulling, making his breath catch in his throat. 

"Anywhere you want, Clark, anywhere. And who said anything about me fucking you. I want you in me, that huge cock splitting me open, making me scream. Take me here, now, on the floor, the couch, over the railing, I don't give a shit...just fuck me." Whitney closed his eyes, imagining the lush body taking his, covering it, reaming him, filling ... 

"Hey, Whit. What's up bud? You drifted off there for a minute or two? Whit...," a concerned voice asked him, his mind fuzzy. He looked up, seeing Clark's puzzled look. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, damp hair tousled, skin rosy from being rubbed dry. Whitney's mouth opened, trying to speak. 'Fuck this', he thought to himself, cock hard from his daydream. He grabbed Kent's head, yanking it down to take his mouth, tongue dipping inside to taste. Clark moaned, then pulled back to look into Whit's blue eyes. 

"You've had my heart so long, Clark. Just say you'll take good care of it." The dark head bent down again, a soft 'always' whispered into his mouth. And he silently thanked Kwan. 

End 


End file.
